text_original: Not till the days of Mary did Cavendish gather together his notes and sketch the fortunes of one whose figure loomed forth from a distant past, mellowed by the mists of time, and hallowed by the pious resignation which was the only comfort that reflection could give to the helpless recluse.
text_transcription: NOT TILL THE DAYS OF MARY DID CAVENDISH GATHER TOGETHER HIS NOTES AND SKETCH THE FORTUNES OF ONE WHOSE FIGURE LOOMED FORTH FROM A DISTANT PAST MELLOWED BY THE MISTS OF TIME AND HALLOWED BY THE PIOUS RESIGNATION WHICH WAS THE ONLY COMFORT THAT REFLECTION COULD GIVE TO THE HELPLESS RECLUSE
phonemes: nˌɑːt tˈɪl ðə dˈeɪz ʌv mˈɛɹi dˈɪd kˈævəndˌɪʃ ɡˈæðɚ təɡˌɛðɚ hɪz nˈoʊts ænd skˈɛtʃ ðə fˈɔːɹtʃʊnz ʌv wˈʌn hˌuːz fˈɪɡjɚ lˈuːmd fˈɔːɹθ fɹʌm ɐ dˈɪstənt pˈæst, mˈɛloʊd baɪ ðə mˈɪsts ʌv tˈaɪm, ænd hˈæloʊd baɪ ðə pˈaɪəs ɹˌɛzɪɡnˈeɪʃən wˌɪtʃ wʌzðɪ ˈoʊnli kˈʌmfɚt ðæt ɹᵻflˈɛkʃən kʊd ɡˈɪv tə ðə hˈɛlpləs ɹˈɛkluːs.